Knotted Blood
by Taint of Taia
Summary: On Hold. See Author's Page. Secrets about Harry's parentage are coming out. They are secrets that only Petunia knows, but not all of them. Will Snape help Harry or not? PostOOtP AU
1. Photographs

**Disclaimer:** I most certainly do NOT own Harry Potter and I do not make any profit off of this story

**Title**: Knotted Blood

This fic is in answer to wwwendy's challenge using an idea that would not leave my head once it popped up in there.

**The challenge:  
****Harry discovers that his parents aren't Lilly AND James** (one of them could still be his parents, but not both)  
**Severus Snape helps/assists him brew a potion to determine who his parents are** (why Snape helps is up to you, he can assist willingly, could be ordered by AD, blackmailed by Harry, or any other reason you can come up with)  
**His parents have to be characters from Canon **(no original characters, please**), extra points (**like the points matter**) if his parents are one of the couples mentioned here. SS/LP, MM/AD, SS/JP, LP/TR, SS/wife**

**A.N.: **The one change is that there is a bit of manipulation for when it comes to an original character versus canon character as one of his parents, but this will be no main character by any means. Also, I come close to achieving the extra points, but fall short somewhere. You'll see what I mean in the future.

**Random fact:** Hey, did you know that when looking up a suitable flower name to use in my story, I came across _Privet_ as one of them, and Privet are actually small white flowers? Does that mean that as there is protection at #4 Privet drive, he has _protection within or by the flower(s)_? Or is this just a coincidence?

* * *

Within Little Whinging and inside the house of number four Privet Drive Harry could be found ridding the crawl space, that someone dared to call an attic, of dust and clutter. Believe it or not, it was a job he wanted to have. It helped to keep his mind off of other things, such as how he had lost his godfather just a few weeks prior. For the first few weeks of summer, he had done nothing but stay in Dudley's second bedroom and wallow in his misery. The Order's threats had prevented his uncle from assigning him any chores. The Order had let his relatives know that he was to stay inside the house the whole summer. As his aunt typically did all the indoor cleaning but the kitchen, it left Harry very little to do. When Petunia had finally realized that her nephew was falling deeper and deeper into depression and having nothing to do to channel his energies, she had asked...asked!...if he would like to clean the attic. She had told him blatently that it was doing him no good sitting in his room twenty-three out of the twenty-four hours a day and that it would give him something further to do. As an incentive, she also let him know that there were bound to be old photographs that were not found in the family albums in the living room, and that there were bound to be some of his mother in there. It had taken him three days to say yes in the scratchy, worn, voice that had not been used since the day he had returned to Privet Drive. 

This was the second day he could be found up in the attic while Vernon was at work and Dudley was away for the week, vacationing with Piers' family in France. Yesterday was when he had cleaned up the dust that had built up so much he could hardly move around without coughing up the stuff. He had also gone thru a few boxes but had not yielded any results as they were Dudley's baby items and Vernon's childhood treasures and trophies. Harry had taken the time to label those boxes so he would not have to bother with them again.

Pulling out another box, Harry finally found what his aunt had spoken of. There were twelve different types of photo albums buried at the bottom of several pieces of Petunia's old clothing. This family really never did throw anything out. Opening the first album, he found himself staring at the faces of three smiling little girls. The middle girl, and oldest at eight, was most obviously his Aunt Petunia. It was not the woman he knew, though. This girl had golden blond hair piled at the top of her head in a messy knot while her pale skin was flushed in happiness. Her blue eyes sparkled with mischief and her long neck and thin body reminded him of a ballerina. The child Petunia once was had a beauty that her older self seemed to have lost. Still, it was the two identical twin girls that had Harry most in shock. They were six years old and both had high ponytails that held their bright red hair out of their cherubic faces. Both had emerald green eyes that shone with happiness as they held on to their elder sister. One of these twin girls, he knew was his mother. The other was her twin that he held no knowledge of. He choked back a sob. She was more family and he knew nothing of her, just as he had known nothing of Sirius until he overheard a single conversation.

o1o1o1o1o

"BOY! Do you want lunch or not?"

If Harry strained his ears, or was even paying attention to anything around him, he would have heard his aunt clumping up the metal ladder that led up to the attic. Instead, he just allowed himself to be found by his aunt while he had his arms wrapped around his legs as he sat staring at the single photograph that he had stumbled upon. He had made no change in his position for the past two hours. His tears had ceased an hour ago but the tracks were still visible.

"I did not send you up here just so you could mope in a change of scenery. Now, are you going to eat or not?"

"Who...is she?"

Petunia frowned at her nephew's barely audible whisper but looked to the album to see who she was referring to. It only made her tighten her lips and tighten the reign on her emotions. What was she supposed to say? The answer was so complicated that even Petunia couldn't quite give Harry a proper answer, so she did what she always did. "What have I told you about asking questions? Don't!" Harshly, she grabbed his arm and pulled him up so he was standing. She barely took notice of how thin the arm she had taken hold of was, but it still did register, along with how he swayed when he stood.

"Come on. It won't do for you not to eat and have your freaky friends blaming me for it. Downstairs, now!"

Ten minutes later found both Harry and Petunia sitting at the kitchen table. While she ate, Harry picked at his peanut butter sandwich. He never felt like eating anymore.

"Her name was Dahlia. She's dead."

Startled, Harry looked up at his aunt. His expression begged for more, but knew his aunt would only give him information she was willing to give and no more. Begging never helped in the past and it would not help now.

Petunia took in a deep sigh. "She was your mother's twin sister, but she never went to that _school_ of yours. She didn't want to. She had been in a car accident a few months prior to her letter and didn't want to leave home. That accident left heavy injuries, one of them leading to her unable to have any children. She stayed home because she was still dealing with the consequences of the accident. She and I...were close. She died when I was six months pregnant with Dudley."

"Oh."

The two of them fell silent. Petunia was unwilling to say any more on the matter and Harry couldn't force himself out of his depression caused silence to even attempt to ask anymore.

o1o1o1o1o

Two more weeks crawled by and some had changed at Privet Drive. The attic was now fully clean and the photo albums were now in Petunia's possession, along with another box. Dudley was back from his vacation and was more obnoxious than ever, and surprisingly looking as though he lost a few pounds. Apparently he had been at the beginning of the summer, but Harry had not taken much notice. Dudley's school had him on a strict regimen and he had lost well over a hundred pounds. The weight loss was not too noticeable, as he was so heavy, but Dudley had lost one of his five chins and easily fit into the Smeltings large uniform. Vernon was a bit happier as well. He had gotten a healthy pay raise. Vernon was still riding on the small euphoria that came with the raise. Petunia, on the other hand, had become more contemplative over the past two weeks and had actually stopped calling Dudley any pet names, much to the happiness of Dudley. The large boy was thrilled to not be called Duddikins or Dudders, and to the eternal surprise of the household, had actually thanked her for stopping with the pet names the other day, even if it wasn't actually heartfelt, but merely out of sheer relief.

Changes came for Harry, as well. For example, today was his sixteenth birthday. Instead of receiving any gifts or letters from his friends, the night skies had nothing to deliver to him. The headmaster had ceased any and all owl activity going to and from his house. Hedwig was now being housed at Hogwarts, much to his silent and written protests, and his letters to the Order was now one of Mrs. Figg's cats coming to collect a letter at the back door of the Dursley household every three days. His silence had become more pronounced, though his aunt practically forced the pleasantries from his mouth, thus speaking more. He had taken on the full kitchen chores once again, along with cleaning the two bathrooms in the house. He started eating more, though, under the watchful eye of his aunt, who had realized that she was not going to allow him to starve himself away to nothing just because he was depressed. It was the most concern she had shown for him in the whole time he had lived here.

Petunia knocked on her nephew's door, and when she did not receive an answer, she opened the door to find him still curled up in bed. Part of her desired to grab one of her frying pans and hit him upside the head with it, just to snap him out of his depression, but a heavy part of her resisted against such actions. She knew the boy was depressed, though she didn't know what over, except that he had come home depressed. The most life she had seen from him was when she had first spoken of Dahlia to him. There was such a heavy part of her that wanted to keep her sister all to herself, but she also knew that he held more claim to Dahlia than she did. Despite the fact that she heavily resented Lily, her thoughts of Dahlia were never tarnished in any manner except for those heavily linked with Lily.

Heaving a sigh, she sat on the boy's bed, the package that she brought with her was clutched in her lap. Reaching out, she pushed the his hair out of his face. Petunia could not help but think of how much a pity it was that the boy had to carry James Potter's face. The man wasn't even his real father, not that she knew who was. Despite her heavy resentment toward him, she could not help but want to be near him now. For so long, she had shut out the voice in her head that sounded so much like her favorite sister in favor of the one that sounded like her husband, but in the past two weeks, Dahlia's voice rang clear through her mind. She had done a great injustice toward the boy, especially in the manner that she raised him. It was too late to change the past, though. She could change some things, though, especially by letting go of a few secrets.

She was too cowardly to actually speak the secrets aloud to him, but it didn't prevent her from writing them. Enclosed on top of the package was a letter enclosed in a plain white envelope. No one could ever say she never gave anything to the boy. Quickly, she left the room, allowing the package to remain on the bed beside him. After today, all the secrets she kept from the boy would be set free. She just wondered when she would hear his gut wrenching cries at the injustices of it all.

* * *

No, this will not be one of those stories where Harry refuses to speak to everyone, only at Privet Drive, and that's going away fast. No, there are no planned couples. No, I won't tell you who his parents are. I hope you like it. 


	2. Unexpected Letter

**Disclaimer**: I hereby state that J.K. Rowling and the publishers of the books have all rights to the characters and plots in J.K's wonderful books. Only the idea for this story is mine, and I am making absolutely no profit from the writing of this story.

**A.N.**: Thank you for all the reviews. I'm glad so many liked the first chapter, especially as I was only expecting seven or eight, but instead got fourteen! Yay me! Also, while the story idea is mine, it completely stemmed from wwwendy's challenge.

**Hm, I'm guessing that Lily is his biological mother, but that she was carrying him for Dahlia, or something like that.  
**Close, but no cigar. BTW, I love it when people speculate!

**"That was the worst thing i ever read. i would rather read how snape fell for hermionie" (harry/hedwig fan)  
**Hee, hee! Thanks for making me laugh person who did not spell "Hermione" correctly and makes me think they love beastiality between Harry and Hedwig!

_**Criticism is welcome, especially if done in taste!**_

* * *

It was ten in the morning on July thirty-first that Harry woke up. He had stayed up until three in the morning, holding out hope that he would still receive some sort of correspondence on his birthday. He had wanted to be left alone in the beginning, but for the past few weeks, he could not help but feel the intense pain of loneliness. He felt abandoned by everyone, even though it was Dumbledore that was preventing anyone from owling him any messages or contacting him thru Mrs. Figg's cats. His only luck, today, seemed to be that he had gone without dreaming on his birthday. It was a nice change to not see Sirius die so vividly again.

The first thing he noticed after putting on his glasses was the gift, wrapped in green gift wrap, sitting on his bed. For a moment, he wondered which of his friends had actually managed to sneak him a gift past Dumbledore's enforced no contact. His hope drifted away when he noticed that the handwriting that spelled out his name on the front of the envelope was actually his aunt's handwriting. It was with trepidation that he opened the letter and pulled out three pages of stationary, filled with Aunt Petunia's handwriting. He squinted a bit to read the letter, reminding him of how he was desperately due for a new prescription of glasses.

_Dear Harry,_

_I have kept a great many secrets from you in the whole time that you have lived in this house. Some, your whole world knew (and you now know those), while others, only myself, Dahlia, Lily, and James knew. Three of these people, of course, are now dead and buried, leaving me with the burden of carrying these secrets. No one was supposed to know, and Lily was to tell you when you turned fifteen. A year has past since that date, but I held no obligation in telling you of these secrets. One thing you must realize is that it does not change who YOU are. It is who you have always been, but you simply did not know it. I learned this lesson myself when I was a teenager. I only tell you this because I would rather not deal with anymore depression from you. In order for you to understand these two, closely guarded, secrets, I must tell you the stories behind them. The first secret is that I am no blood relative of yours._

_The first is relatively simple to explain, and affects nothing but your ancestry. Jane and Michael Evans were never capable of bearing any children of their own, so they decided to adopt. The first two children they adopted were Dahlia and Lily, when they were only two weeks old. They were thrilled with them from the very beginning, from what I understand. At the same time, they had met me, a two year old who had not yet been adopted. Six months later, I was adopted as well, and the three of us were closer than natural siblings. All three of us never spoke to others of our adoption, as there was a bit of a stigma that came with such a thing in our school, especially as we did not know who our biological parents were. No doubt, not even your headmaster knows. Jane and Michael were the best and we never insulted them by even suggesting that they were anything but our true parents._

_The second secret that I hold leads into the third. That headmaster of yours had told me that the sisterly bond I shared with Lily was what would protect you, and that was why he placed you with me. I let you know this because that was not why I accepted you into my home. You should know by now that I never wanted anything to do with Lily and James Potter. I loathed them for reasons that are my own. Had you truly only been their child, I would have never taken you in. I took you in because of Dahlia. Still, I could not help but see James Potter's face when I looked at you, and hear Lily's sarcasm and wit and strength whenever you spoke. I never looked into your eyes, because that was where I could see Dahlia. Perhaps in telling you this, I am attempting to justify my actions toward you. I know nothing will, but perhaps in time, you and Dahlia could forgive me. This leads to my third secret that I hold, and that which will likely hurt you the most. Your parentage is not made up of Lily and James, rather a knotted mess when arguing who your mother is, and James is not your father at all._

Harry choked He wanted this to be a joke. He did not want some letter from his aunt to rip away everything he knew about his parents.

_At this, I shall start at the beginning. I told you prior to you reading this letter that Dahlia had been in a car accident that had rendered her incapable of having children. What you must understand is that this had practically destroyed her. Every time we ever played house as children, she always wanted to play the mother. She was a natural caregiver. The knowledge that she could never have children of her own had deeply wounded her. Our mother understood, of course, having felt the same emotions. Her emotional state left her nowhere near capable of going off to a boarding school away from mum. Lily went, though, and I later learned, years later, that she went specifically to find a way for magic to give back what Dahlia had lost. Still, I resented her for leaving when Dahlia needed all of us. Dahlia was hurt as well. Our parents knew of her secret plans, though, and were so proud of her for it. Dahlia and I did not know why they were so proud, though, until much later. It hurt the two of us to think that we could not make them proud in the same manner._

_When Lily and Dahlia turned seventeen, Lily had given Dahlia a box full of books and research notes that she had done. I remember the confusion that Dahlia held when looking at the odd gift that spoke of magic that none but Lily understood. It was when Lily revealed what they actually meant that I was thrilled with her for the first time in years, and upset as well because only Lily could provide this gift for Dahlia. There were potions that Dahlia could take that would restore the damage that Dahlia had suffered in her uterus. There was a transference charm that would allow Lily to give Dahlia one of her ovaries, along with the eggs inside them, as Dahlia's could no longer provide. As Lily and Dahlia were identical twins, any child that Dahlia would birth after the magic was done might as well have been her own biological child. That summer found Dahlia with the ability to have children once again. The only downside was that magically, the child would be considered Lily's, as they were her eggs. Dahlia found that she did not mind this. She would be able to experience everything that a mother could, from the moment the child was conceived to gaining grandchildren and great grandchildren from that child. Two and a half years later, Dahlia conceived a child only two months after I became pregnant with Dudley. She told only Lily who the father was, as the father was a wizard and I did not know him. I still do not know his name._

_Harry, what you must understand is that the child she conceived was you. I have told you all of this so you understand that while Lily is your biological and adoptive mother, it was Dahlia that granted you life. She was the first to claim motherhood on you. Unfortunately, Death Eaters attacked my parents home when Dahlia was there as well. Both my parents died in that attack and Dahlia was critically wounded. The magical doctors were only able to hold her life in temporary stasis in order to find someone to take you from her womb and place you in another. She was only four months pregnant with you at the time. I would have easily done so had I not been pregnant with Dudley at the time. Lily, though, stepped right up. James was the only other person that knew, and he had made the magical doctor forget all about how Dahlia had been pregnant and that you had been placed into Lily, for reasons unknown fully to me. Dahlia died the next day and her only request was that if you were a girl, to name you Juniper, and if you were a boy, to name you Harry. Obviously, the request was honored. Still, there was obviously a war, and it would do no good for anyone to find out that you were not the product of Lily and James. From what I understand, an adoption charm was placed on you while you were still in the womb and James accepted you fully as his own flesh and blood. It is why you look so much like him. I could see that he loved you dearly, just as my parents had loved me. **Blood meant nothing**. That was the only time that I ever appreciated anything to do with James Potter. He was Lily's Michael Evans._

_I have told you all this because of Dahlia. You deserve to know the part she played in your life. I cannot deny that part of you anymore, especially as she and I were so close. While Lily is no doubt your biological mother and the one who adopted you as her own while you were in her womb, Dahlia is the one I recognize. You have her eyes, you know. Lily's were never so full of life in one point in her life, and so full of sorrow in another. Lily has no claim on those eyes of yours, for whenever I see them, I am not reminded of Lily, but Dahlia._

_I would very much prefer to never speak of this letter or its contents to you. Do not bring any of this up in this household as both Vernon and Dudley have no clue and I want it to stay that way. Vernon is unaware that Dahlia was ever a witch, though untrained, and I do NOT want him besmirching her name. She had never wronged or hurt me as Lily had done, before and after the gift to Dahlia. I do not want you to speak ill of her, either. She was the woman who granted you life and loved you from the very moment she found out about you until the moment she past on. I am sure her love for you continued even past her death._

_Aunt Petunia_

Slowly, Harry folded the pieces of stationary together and placed them back in the envelope. He had the heavy urge to yell and scream about the injustices of it all. He also wanted to have Sirius sitting next to him, offering words of comfort and silent support. For all intents and purposes, he had two mothers and an unknown father. It also meant that Grandma and Grandpa Evans weren't even blood relations. His Aunt Petunia was not a blood relation. The only two people he knew he was related to were his two mothers, Lily and Dahlia. Quickly, he scrambled out of his bed, pulling things out left and right until he found his first year charms book. Opening it to the front cover, he easily found Hermione's phone number. He had forgotten about it completely since the moment that Ron had tried to call him and his Uncle Vernon had gotten mad about the whole thing. Still, he desperately needed to talk to someone.

It was a weekend but he knew that Vernon was already away at work, pulling an extra shift. Dudley also was typically at Piers' house by now, as he had been most of the summer. Something told him that his aunt would not refuse him a small telephone call. Moments later, he found he was correct and sat down at the kitchen with the cordless phone in his hand, shakily dialing his best friend's phone number.

"Hello, Grangers residence."

"H-hello, Mr. Granger. Is Hermione there? This is Harry." Harry cringed at how his voice sounded, hesitant and scratchy.

"I'm sorry, lad. Hermione's with the Weasleys for the rest of the summer. Didn't she tell you?"

"N-no. Thank you anyway, sir."

Harry ended the phone call and just stared at the phone in his hands. He had finally realized how he could speak to one of his friends, and it was too late to contact her. She was already in a wizarding household where no phone was there. He choked back a sob. Last year he was angry at the world, but this year, and at this moment, he felt as though he lost everything all over again, especially Sirius and his parents. Sorrow decided to rule his heart, and there was no one to comfort him and tell him it would be alright.

Petunia looked over to her nephew when she heard him begin to cry. She knew that her letter was responsible for half those tears. Still, she could give him no comfort. There was too much between them for him to even accept it. Still...

She made her way over to Harry and pulled him up beside her, holding on to him as she began to lead him back upstairs, only stopping to place the cordless phone back in its cradle. There was no need for her Dudley to see his tears and call him on it. Boys were always ready to tease another boy who cried, even her Dudley. When they made it up to his room, she noticed the package was still unopened on the bed. As he sat down, she placed the package on his desk. She watched as he took his thin pillow and held it close to him, as though it held some hidden comfort, while he laid down.

As she left the room, she could hear Dahlia telling her how disappointed she was in her. Petunia argued back that it was Lily's fault that she and James had to go and get blown up, leaving Harry in a home that did not appreciate magic. Dahlia's voice fell silent again in favor of the one that sounded so much like Vernon. It was so much easier to just think of him as Lily's. It was too painful for him to be Dahlia's.

* * *

Grrr! I wanted Petunia's letter to be in a different font. I also wish it sounded more like Petunia's personality, but just chalk it up to her actually thinking about what she is writing on paper, rather than her sour tone coming right out of her mouth, without really thinking about it. 


	3. Visits and Scores

**Disclaimer**: See first post.

**Author's Note**: Thank you to the nine people who reviewed. I'm sorry for the wait, but it was because I was writing future scenes for this story, specifically involving Snape.

**This is not a Snape is Harry's father story! More of him being a mentor.**

* * *

The next day found Harry still very sad, but opening the package that Petunia had left. It was four inches tall and was as large as a clothing gift box. As he removed the green gift wrap, he found that the box was just that. He popped the tape that held the box closed and took off the lid, finding several items. One was a midnight blue baby blanket that was decorated with stars in no particular pattern. White lettering spelled out his first name on the bottom right corner. A baby outfit was also in the box, or rather an infant robe. They were a light blue with a white collar and hem. White booties completed the outfit. Obviously, these were the items that he had come in when left at the Dursleys. It was a wonder that these were even still in the Dursley household, but his aunt had probably kept them out of some obligation to Dahlia. 

The last item in the box was a black photo album. It was eleven inches by fourteen inches. It was obviously a new album. Opening the cover, he found a small note scrawled on the inside.

_Harry,_

_These are copies of some of the best Evans family photos. It's only right that you have them._

_Aunt Petunia_

As he flipped thru the pages, he found many photos of Jane and Michael Evans, along with their adopted daughters. One of the photos was the one he had found in the attic. All the photos spanned his mothers' whole childhood and early adulthood. On the first page of the whole album were small individual photos of the three girls, their parents, and their great grandparents. Under each photo were their names and when they were born and when they died. Only Petunia had no death date. He knew the Evans family was small, comprised of 'only child' children. That meant he had no great aunts or uncles that would have meant distant cousins. It meant that there were only nine photos. The four grandparents, the two parents, and the three girls. Still, it was the most he ever knew about his family, even if his mother (or mothers) was adopted into it.

It was slightly depressing, but he couldn't help but continue to look thru the album. It was the nicest thing his aunt had ever done for him. Each photo even included a few words ranging from '3rd grade photo' to 'beach trip' to 'visiting London', along with the date. These were of course common in any photo album that his aunt created, but it was still amazing that she had done the same for him. He also knew that she would never do something like this for him again.

The rest of the day was spent looking over the album over and over again. There were easily two hundred photos that spoke of a happy childhood for the three girls and their parents, along with a few posed photos of his great grandparents.

All of it made him long to know who his father was and who his biological grandparents were. It simply made him desire a way to find out who they were.

When dinner time came, Petunia brought up a dish for him, sitting on his desk chair until he ate the whole thing She had gotten good at making certain he ate one meal all the way thru, though she fed him all three. When she finally took away the dish, Harry put away the album and laid down. Briefly, he wondered how he did on his OWLs and how he would get his school supplies. No doubt he would not be able to go to Diagon Alley once again.

ooOoo

Three more weeks passed at Privet Drive and things were once again normal for the Dursleys. Vernon had regained his temperament after finding his son hoarding candy in his room. No more thank you's sounded out of Dudley's mouth, and Petunia was once again the screeching aunt that Harry had known for almost fifteen full years. No mention was ever made of the gift she had given Harry or of Dahlia. She made certain he ate by saying she wouldn't have him waste food, and that was all that was said on that matter.

Meanwhile, Harry felt himself grow more isolated. The cat still came to collect a message from him, but he never received any himself. Dudley and Vernon ignored him and he did the same. Just as it had been for the whole summer, the only communication he had with anyone (past the 'I am fine' letters) were the forced pleasantries between he and Petunia.

Today seemed as though it would bring a change, and Harry was glad of that feeling. He could feel himself sinking deeper and deeper into depression. Last night didn't help any, either. Just as he had done for most of the summer, he once again had nightmares involving Sirius and the Department of Mysteries. Just like every dream he had when recalling that day, something about the whole night changed. This past time held a startlingly real recollection of the events. What was different, though, was instead of him smashing many different objects of the headmaster's, they were all figurines of Sirius in different ways he remembered or imagined him. The last figurine he smashed in the dream was actually one of Sirius with his arm around him as they sat together on a worn couch. Harry could not help but think that the dream was right in that he was the one who destroyed that.

This was why he needed something to happen. He wanted to destroy Voldemort for the part he played in his, Harry's, sorrows, but he felt everything pulling him down, ready to engulf him fully. And when he wasn't thinking about that, he was dwelling on Dahlia, Lily, James, and his unknown father. There was no method available for him to vent. There was no one to speak or write to. It only made him hunger for Hogwarts more. It was not like last year where he just pushed everything away and tried to manage everything on his own. No. He needed someone. He needed Ron and Hermione. He had no one else.

A few hours later, he was proven correct in that a change would come, though it was _much _smaller than he had hoped for. Mrs. Figg's cat brought him a message. It simply stated that Fred and George Weasley would come to collect him by a portkey that would leave Privet Drive at 10:40 a.m. on September 1st, and would drop them off at King's Cross. It also stated that he should be packed and ready to go the night before, just in case.

Harry could not help but smile slightly at the knowledge of the Weasley twins picking him up. He wondered if that meant they were in the Order now. Thinking of the Order made him frown. He didn't want to think of the group that had kept their secrets and brushed him off so many times last year. They, too, shared some of the blame that led to Sirius's death, even if he held a much larger part.

ooOoo

"Alo there, Harry!"

"How are you, mate?"

Harry opened his eyes to find two blurs with red hair staring down at him. Quickly, he reached over to his bedside table for his glasses before putting them on. Immediately, his vision got better, even though it was a bit blurry still.

"Fred? George? What time is it?"

"Oh, eight in the morning. No worries."

"Oi! Gred! We haven't confirmed his identity yet. Mad Eye would have our heads! We don't know if this really IS Harry Potter! Any twelve year old boy could put on a wig and slap on a scar in an attempt to fool us!"

Harry growled. "I am NOT twelve!" His words were completely ignored, though.

"Right you are, Forge!" Fred turned back to look at Harry and eyed him critically as though doubting that he really was Harry Potter. "So, if you're _really_ Harry Potter, answer me this! _What _was Oliver Wood's speech that he gave us at your first quidditch match?

"You expect me to remember that?"

"The whole team knows the speech by heart Person-Who-Claims-To-Be-Harry."

Harry rolled his eyes. If there was one thing Fred and George Weasley could do well, it was the ability to poke fun at a potentially serious situation. "Okay, men...and women. This is it..."

"The big one!" said Fred.

"The one we've all been waiting for," said George.

Both twins cracked up, almost ensuring with their laughter that Harry did not need to continue. Their own words had confirmed that the two of them were also who they claimed to be. Still, Harry could not figure out what was so hysterical. Perhaps it was a private joke shared between the two of them. Still, Harry cracked a smile at their jovial attitude. There was no doubt in his mind that the Weasley twins could never fail to cheer him up when he was down. That didn't mean he was over them calling him twelve years old yet.

"What are the two of you doing here so early? The note said 10:40."

"Yes my dear, thick, friend. That is when the portkey leaves this house for King's Cross. It did not say, though, when we would arrive here."

"And we arrived here to take care of some business."

"And to catch up."

"Business? What's there to take care of?"

"Several things. First thing. George, if you would?"

George immediately handed a scroll of parchment over to Harry. "Open it."

Harry immediately did so, but didn't quite know what he was looking at (because of the legal jargon used). All he could recognize was that it had something to do with the twins' joke shop. Still, he took a closer look. "Wait a minute, is this..."

"Part ownership? Yes."

"You're having me own part of your shop? Why? I don't have anything to do with it!"

"You have plenty to do with it! Without you, we would still be tinkering with ideas that we wouldn't be able to fund, nor would we be able to purchase a building for our shop."

"Besides that, when mum heard it was you who gave us the galleons, she demanded we return the whole amount back to you..."

"...but we knew that you would never be able to accept it and would probably throw it straight into the gutter. We realize why you had gotten rid of them in the first place. We came up with a compromise, though."

"You now own ten percent of our shop. It's only a small part, but in a few months it will completely refund your money, and keep making you some."

"It's enough to keep mum happy. All we need is your signature."

"And we're not taking no for an answer."

Harry looked the contract over. He would play little to no part in the shop, except that this was his compensation for being their financial backer. He gave Fred and George a shaky smile. He knew he wouldn't get away with refusing. They had already told him so. "Have you got a quill?"

Fred immediately gave him a big grin and pulled out a huge plum feather quill colored with bright blue, yellow, and orange. "Self inking."

As soon as the parchment was signed, it and the quill were immediately taken from him and hidden in the pockets of Fred's robe. They then, in the most embarrassing way possible, pointed out to Harry that he still had to get out of bed and get dressed. George had even gone out of his way to pick out Harry's outfit, shaking his head at the poor selection of Dudley-hand-me-downs, and proceeded to make moves to dress Harry himself before Harry moved out of his grasp and ran off to the bathroom to change in privacy. When he returned, Fred and George were sitting on his bed, practically taking up the whole space on the narrow bed. Harry sat on the desk chair.

"Obviously there was something else if you wanted to come this early."

"Oh of course!"

It was George who lavishly presented Harry with a sealed Ministry envelope. "Your OWL scores, Sir!"

Harry shakily took them out of George's hand. For a long while, he had been wondering how he had done. As the headmaster prevented him from getting any mail, this had been kept from him as well. He hadn't wondered too much, though, as he had many other thoughts on his mind over the summer. Hastily, he opened them up.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_I am pleased to provide you with your OWL scores. Please note, you only get an OWL if you gain an Exceeds Expectations or higher. The average scores of your practical and theoretical have not been provided here, but your professors have them._

_Sincerely,_

_The School Board_

_Ministry of Magic_

_**... ... ... ... ... ... ...Practical... ****Theoretical**_

_**Astronomy ... ... ... **A... ... ... ... ... A_

_**C.o.M.C. ... ... ... ... **E... ... ... ... ... E_

_**Charms... ... ... ... ...**O... ... ... ... ...E_

_**D.A.D.A**. ... ... O (A-NEWT)... ... ...E_

_**Divination ... ... ... ... **P ... ... ... ... A_

_**Herbology... ... ... ...**E... ... ... ... ...A_

_**History of Magic... **n/a ... ... ... ... P_

_**Potions ... ... ... ... ... **E ... ... ... ... E_

_**Transfiguration ... **E... ... ... ... ...A_

_Please note the 'A-NEWT' is a grade for NEWT level, but does not count towards your official scores. It was your corporeal patronus that has enabled you to gain this honorary NEWT._

In looking his grades over, he couldn't help but be pleased. He had gotten ten OWL's. He had also done much better than expected. He wasn't surprised by the theoretical E in D.A.D.A., especially as all his professors had not done a good job of teaching him, and when he had learned on his own, he was more concerned with getting the spells and having them work than anything else. He was surprised, though, that they gave him a NEWT score. Disappointment began to settle in, though, as he reread his potions scores. He wouldn't be able to become an auror, and there was no way that Snape would concede in allowing him to enter his class. Even if he did, Snape would only rub it in his face, and announce to the whole class, and thus the school, that he was provided with special treatment. No, it definitely was a big disappointment. He would not even allow himself into the class if it meant special treatment. Harry allowed his body to slump in his chair.

"Oi, mate, what's wrong? You didn't fail everything, did you?"

"Hm? No. I just didn't do well enough in potions. I really needed to score well. I had thought of becoming an auror."

"Independent study, mate."

Harry sat up straighter and looked intently at George. "What?"

"I dare say, Fred, our dear friend might be going a tad deaf!"

"Look, what did you mean by independent study?"

Fred looked a bit disappointed that he lost his chance to comment because of Harry quickly clarifying his words, but then looked cheerful again. "Not everyone passes a teacher's requirements to get access into NEWT classes. We didn't."

"We actually had to petition for one extra class. Everyone is required to take at least four classes at NEWT level. It's the absolute minimum, though they recommend at least five. Our scores were good enough for Charms, Transfiguration, and Defense."

"You barely need to achieve an Acceptable to get into Defense. We only did horribly because we've had horrible teachers, especially Lockhart and Duran. Duran was there before Quirrell. Be glad you never had him."

"Two of our OWLs came from potions, though, but they were Exceeds Expectations for the practical and Outstanding for the theory. He refused to let us into the class, though. We had to petition with the school board for permission with independent study, and we got it. They almost always grant permission if you have Exceeds Expectations."

"So that's what you can do. We'll provide you with our study notes and what we know to have been on past NEWT exams."

"If you get permission, we'll even make time to come to the school and tutor you in what we know."

"Unless you're _really _daft, you should know that we have to know potions really well for our products. We actually have to take a competency exam within the next six months for us to keep going with our shop and products."

"But there's no doubt we'll pass. We've already taken practice exams with great success."

Harry gave a small smile. "I can do that?"

"Sure. I'm certain old McGonagall will take care of it, if you ask her. I'm almost certain they would not refuse."

"I have to think about it."

"Don't give it too long. Potions is just as difficult to study on your own as it is with Snape teaching. Well, maybe a little easier."

"Anyhow, Harry, we're going to pick up your supplies for school and drop them off tomorrow morning. That means specifically... books."

"As boring as they are," interrupted Fred.

"Professor McGonagall said I need at least five NEWTs with Exceeds Expectations to get into the auror program. She said D.A.D.A., Potions, and Transfiguration were a must. Charms also."

"Well then, pick one more class. You can let the Professor know you want to take each of those... well, independent study for potions."

"We recommend Herbology."

"It will help in your potions studies."

Harry nodded his head before allowing it to rest in his arms on his desk. "Do you think Hagrid would mind if I didn't take his class?"

"'Course not! Just as long as you explain it to him! If you decide not to do potions, then you can request to enter his class. There's no doubt that Hagrid would let you in. Just be sure to let him know in the beginning that you're thinking of independent study and you really don't know how much time that will take up. He'll completely understand."

"Thanks." He closed his eyes and allowed the feeling of the presence of people who liked him to wash over him. So far today, he'd spoken more than he had in the whole summer combined. He really didn't want to talk anymore. He'd gotten too used to his own silence.

"Are you alright there, Harry?" George asked as he noticed Harry's unguarded expression. Seemingly, they were just taking notice of the dark circles under his eyes and his drawn expression.

"Hmm?" He pulled himself out of his near dangerous thought. "Oh, yes, I suppose."

"You suppose?" George looked worriedly over to Fred. Both seemed to suddenly realize just how dangerous Harry's thoughts could be.

"Mate..."

"...have you been alright this past summer?"

"We know that the Dursleys are horrid and unsympathetic."

"And we know that you haven't been able to communicate with those who do like you."

"Have you been able to deal with...you know."

Harry sat back up and looked directly at the twins. "What do you think?"

"I think, mate, that this house and the Dursleys are a sink pit and you've been sinking for two and a half months."

"Yeah." Harry began to hug himself for comfort. "Can we not talk anymore? Or, at least, talk about something else?"

"Sure Harry..."

"Just as long as you talk to someone."

"Anyone."

Harry absently nodded his head thinking about how heavy his head and body felt at the moment, pushing away any thoughts that didn't have to do with the twins' presence, at the moment, away.

"Hey. Sit on the bed with us. That chair has got to be the most uncomfortable one I've ever seen."

Obediently, Harry made his way over as they made a place between them.

As per Harry's request, they changed the subject. "Now that we know what courses you want to take, do you know of any other books that you might like?"

"We might as well get them while we're at the book shop."

"Occlumency, if you can find it...or meditation, maybe. Nothing's been going on this summer, but..." Harry dwelled on his words for a few moments. Though Voldemort wasn't bothering him this summer with visions, he felt he owed it to Sirius to not lead anyone else into trouble.

"Better safe than sorry."

"We understand."

Anything else?"

Briefly, Harry entertained the thought of them getting him a book on adoption charms, then disregarded it. He didn't want them to know anything about it yet. While they were very capable of being discreet when needed, he didn't know how faithful they were to the Order. He didn't even know if they had joined yet. "Are you?"

"Are we what, mate? I think you've lost Fred and I."

"Sorry. Are you part of the 'old crowd'?"

"Oh."

"That."

"Sort of. We're sworn in and everything..."

"...but we're only in about knee deep. Our shop is used as a floo connection to Diagon Alley..."

"...and as a place to station an occasional lookout."

"We've even pulled a few shifts in monitoring this house."

"Which is right dull, what, with you staying indoors All. The. Time!"

"That's about it, though. Well, excepting that we're your escorts on this fine day."

"Oh...thanks."

"Not a problem, mate."

"Besides, old Dumbledore know our first priorities and loyalties stand with you."

"That is to say..."

"...if you compare them with the Order."

Harry gave them a half smile. On another day, perhaps, he would feel indignant about thir whole notion of him being first. He never wanted that, only to be included, but seeing as how they were the first friendly faces since June, it was an awefully nice thought.

"So!"

"Anything else that you would like to discuss?"

"Oh! How about some of our newest products!"

* * *

I tried to make the OWL scores as realistic as possible, according to what McGonnagall had said in career counciling. 

Also, this chapter is the longest I've written, simply because I couldn't break it apart without the first part being super short.


End file.
